Category Archives: journaling

Contemplation, journaling, Life, Me, meditaton, Native American Women, Writing

A Little Wine, A Little Sadness

I have to admit to being a little sad these days.  You might think that sometimes winter does that to some people  but winter does not make me sad.  As a matter of fact, the first day of winter is often the happiest day of the year for me.  It means that the days will no longer be getting shorter.  The days do, in fact, start getting longer and this is quite awesome.  Conversely, as you might imagine, the first day of summer is one of the sadest days of the year for me.

You might think that the end of greatly anticipated holiday cheer would make me sad.  It does not.  I am relieved,  as most mothers are, once the crazy season is over.

No, not any of the things that you might think….my computer died and now I am sad.  Sad enough it seems to drink wine and attempt to blog from my tablet.  Oh, some folks might just laugh but I am a very tactile person.  This flat screen is not my thing.  I bought a blue tooth keyboard for my tablet way back when.  I used it so much that I had to use white fingernail polish to repaint the keys, twice.  Then it died…I was sad that day also.

I think I have things to say.  I feel words making my figertips itch for keyboard action.  This is difficult.  Failed hard drive, devastating news.  No tax return…yet, no new computer. 

That’s it.  That’s all I wanted to say.  To let cyberspace know why I am absent.  Thinking about another glass of wine…cause you know, what else can I do if I can’t write?  Ahh well, breaking into my stash of cool pens, running two journals at once, I will get through this, I hope. 

Maybe this is the universe telling me to read more. 

And now that I have said all of this, I am not so sad…either that or I have definitely had enough wine for the night!

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Contemplation, journaling, Life, Me, Native American Women, Writing

Piano Fingers

I was perusing Facebook the other day and watched a video of four people playing the same piano.  They all took turns turning the pages and smiling, eight hands roaming up and down the keys as they pounded out the piece they were playing.  I liked the music and pictured the same piece being played on four different pianos by the same four people.  It would have sounded the same but would not have been as fun to watch.

What I noticed more than everything else I was watching was that they all did that thing piano players do, you know…rocking back and forth to the music as they changed tempo and raised and lowered sound of the keys from soft to loud and back to soft.  All piano players do it…as I have observed.  I am not a player so I can’t say that I do it but I notice things like that.

It started me thinking.  I could start imagining myself sitting at the keyboard of my laptop rocking back and forth as I pounded out my blog or a story or a chapter in a book.  I could imagine writing faster and slower, changing tempo as the thoughts rolled out of my head and to my hands; pounding now and lightly tapping then.  I wondered how that would look to the casual observer.  I wondered if getting so into my writing would cause me to do the same so I sat down and started writing.  My first words were tentative and as the thoughts began to flow my typing got faster and faster and mistakes were backspaced and corrected quickly then the thought would end and everything would slow until the next thought was born.  Two hundred words, three hundred words…five hundred words and so on until the piece was completed.

Funny thing is, I never once swayed forward or backward.  I didn’t lower my head and listen the tapping as I created each sentence.  The speed varied on the thought but that was about it.  My typing as always been a bit like listening to a DI walk across the room…rather loud as each heel strikes the ground as the DI pounds each step into the floor.  Yes, I walk the same way as I type…just a bit intense.  I have had to paint the letters back on the keyboard I use for my tablet twice now.  Still, no swaying to the words the same way that a pianist sways to the music that is being played.

I would stop every now and again to look back over my work. Piano players, I noticed, don’t do that.  When I didn’t like the way a sentence ended or didn’t like the way one thought flowed into the next I took the time to fix it.  Again, piano players don’t get that luxury.  Once the music is sounded it is out there and once a mistake is made the best you can do is try to cover it up with the next note or change the piece altogether and then let everyone think that you meant for it to sound that way.

These are just the things I was thinking today.  All I can say about that is piano players are not typist when they are playing and typist are not piano players when they are typing.  I think that even if I did play the piano I would not sway to they typing like I would sway to the music….

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Family, journaling, Life, Me, meditaton, Native American Women

Dig Deep, Look High, Be Thankful

Rough week.  Lots to think about.  Decisions to be made.  I was very happy for the last of the warm weather to be able to sit outside with my coffee and do some praying while I thought…

I am a protector, this I know and understand.  I protect those I love and I protect them well.  But what happens when those I love walk out from under the protection?  I begin to understand a little bit about how the Creator feels when we walk away from his protection.

I was reminded of a story…my childhood was not smooth but honestly, for the most part I remember being happy.  There were seven of us…mostly girls.  I am the oldest of the brood.  When I was 18 and my next two sisters in age were 16 and 15, one of them took me aside and told me that my job was done.  They didn’t need me anymore.  They were grown and they had me to thank for getting them this far but I was no longer needed to protect or guide them.  For real, she said it just like that.  I remember standing there with my mouth hanging open in disbelief.  I remember being hurt, in my heart. 

This hurt lasted several days.  I didn’t know what to think.  I wasn’t sure of what my place was supposed to be anymore.  I know that she did not tell these things to our Mother.  I know I didn’t tell her, either.  These were things that were shared just between the sisters, as some things just are. 

I had been praying, for the past year, to be free, to grow up, to not be responsible any more.  I had been the big sister since I was 18 months old and it had been a tough 18 years.  Those siblings were a lot of work.  Still, once she had said those things to me I just couldn’t be anything but hurt.  It took several days for me to realize that all of my prayers had been answered.  It was a sudden realization. 

Then I started smiling again.  Then I started planning!  Within two years I was gone.  I had started my independence in college but then joined the Air Force and was off to basic training and I never looked back.  MY life had begun. 

Several years later I was home for a visit and the very same sister who had so happily dismissed me made sure to tell me that our whole family had fallen apart and it was all my fault for leaving.  This time I just smiled.  I knew who was responsible for my life and who was responsible for hers (or the “families’ life” as she put it).  I returned to my own life intact.

That story came to mind as I pondered this week.  It is my life again.  There are steps I need to take to make sure that I am healthy in spirit.  My loved ones will stay under my protection or not…I don’t make that choice.  I will remain strong as my protection does not end and my family is worth the effort.

My world changes from time to time with my age and experience.  There are things that need to be done now that I have crossed this line and become the grandmother.  Ceremonies that need to be completed so that the journey can continue.  I am looking forward again as the week ends and I sit here, I realize, happy for my rough start.  It makes me dig deep into my soul and look high to the Creator and to be thankful for everything.

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Girlfriends, journaling, Life, lifecoaching, meditaton, Native American Women, Retreat, Writing

My Sacred Journey

I have such wonderful friends.  But even as strong as we would like to be there are times that even the strongest of us hits the wall and dang, does that hurt.  We all decided long ago (everyone in my tiny circle is not as young as we used to be) that we were not going to allow that wall to stop us even if it slowed us down a minute.  So we decided to get together and have a weekend retreat.

The crew, like any crew, as specialties.  My specialty is being a life coach so I took the lead.  I named the retreat, set the agenda, made the to-do list and lined up the teachers.

We learned some mediation do’s and don’ts.  We learned some easy-peasy journaling techniques and we studied-just briefly-the how’s and why’s of “chemical reactions to emotional inputs”.  We built a “God box” to work on faith building and….we talked!

We talked and we cried and we laughed.  We acknowledged that we are strong and that we are fragile, that we are young at heart and as old as the hills.  We heard, from our own mouths, some real wisdom and some really silly notions.

It was a good weekend!

Winter is coming and this is where we needed to be….looking at ourselves, getting ready to get into hibernation mode.  We are not bears so we cannot sleep the winter months away but we are women and we can take this time to slow down and look deeply into our mirrors.  We can use this time to really think about everything we went through this weekend….to think about our Sacred Journey, about the women we walk with, about those we have left behind, about what we learned and what we want to learn next.

We will open our “God boxes” next spring after we have filled them with our prayers to see what has transpired in our prayer lives and see our how our faith as grown.  We will have laughed and cried even more when the winter is done and the spring has started again.  We have so much to look forward too.

Now I am sitting here thinking about everything that happened this weekend and find that rather than be physically, emotionally and spiritually drained I am excited and energetic.  It is so wonderful to be with such wonderful women all weekend and to know that we have fueled each other, built each other up and took the time to remind each other how much we really mean to each other and to ourselves.  I am filled with gratitude.

My sacred journey continues….

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